Good Vibrations
by falafel-fiction
Summary: Post rescue. Desmond is living in London with Penny, but he is still haunted by the island and Charlie's death. After being knocked unconscious Desmond travels back in time to relive the events of the Looking Glass mission.
1. Chapter 1

Good Vibrations

**Summary:** Post-rescue. Desmond is living in London with Penny, but he is still haunted by the island and Charlie's death. After being knocked unconscious Desmond travels back in time to relive the events of the Looking Glass mission. He realises he has been given the opportunity to change the timeline.

**Characters: **Desmond, Penny and Charlie.

**Author's Notes:** I had originally intended to post this as one long story, but it got rather too long so I'm breaking it down into chapters. So I have found yet another possible way of saving our dear little rockstar...time travel! More of that in the next part. First lets have some tormented Desmond (just for a change...)

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Desmond stood before the window, resting his hand against the cold glass and staring over the dark London streets. He had been back in this city for three months now, but he seldom ventured out onto those roads. He closed his eyes and went over the words again, singing them softly under his breath. If he could just get the words memorised then he could focus better on the chords…

Desmond lifted the acoustic guitar from its stand and wandered back to the couch. Charlie's notebooks were lying open on the coffee table before him, their pages filled with the lyrics and tablatures of the songs he had been writing during the long months he was stranded on the island. Beside these jotters was a book called 'How To Teach Yourself Guitar' which Desmond had to keep turning back to. Learning an instrument was harder than he thought. Charlie had always made it look so easy. Desmond was really struggling to find the rhythms and match them with his singing. He wished he knew how Charlie wanted these words to be sung.

Desmond persevered for a little longer, but he could feel his frustration mounting. His fingers hurt from pressing down so hard on the strings that they threatened to cut into his skin. His eyes blurred as he stared down at the notes which Charlie had penned in thick black ink. He tried not to picture the same black ink on Charlie's palm when he had pressed his hand to the glass. He rubbed his face and took a slung from the cup of black coffee and whisky sitting by his elbow. The liquid had grown cold and bitter as Desmond had himself in the last hour.

He couldn't get the chords to flow. Desmond put the guitar down and paced the room singing the words over and over. These lyrics felt almost like incantations that could bring Charlie back into the world if Desmond could only find the right way to sing them. But he could never get it right. He knew that very soon he would wander over to the CD player and start playing 'Good Vibrations' on repeat. Desmond would listen to this song for hours. It would have him in tears. He knew The Beach Boys intended it to be a feel-good number, but for Desmond nothing made him more depressed than this song which had killed Charlie.

He heard a shuffling behind him and turned to see Penny standing in the doorway, wrapped in her dressing gown. Her misty blue eyes were heavy with sadness as well as sleep loss. She tilted her head at him.

"Des, its 4am…aren't you coming to bed at all?"

Desmond retreated to the couch and sat before his music books. He held the acoustic guitar in front of him like a shield.

"I'm busy," he muttered. "I'm practising..."

Penny lowered herself into an armchair, pinching her temples.

"Desmond, why are you doing this? You've no talent for music. Your singing is flat and you're a bloody awful guitarist."

Desmond hissed through his teeth. Pen was never one to mince her words. He knew that she was growing exasperated with him. She thought that this was another of his whims. That he was blundering off on another career path. He had tried his hand at being a soldier, a monk, a doctor, a sailor and a builder…now he fancied himself a musician. He was a jack of all trades and a master of none. If you added it all up, Desmond knew she must consider him a failure.

"I just need practise…" he said, quietly. "Then once I'm good enough I'm booking myself into a studio to record them. We'll see what comes of it. If nothing else I want these songs taped so Aaron can hear them. Charlie was the nearest thing that kid had to a father. He doesn't have the chance to get to know him now…but he can listen to his songs and get an idea of who he was."

Penny smiled faintly, touched by the sweetness of this gesture.

"In that case, darling, why don't you let me hire a professional who can make a decent job of performing Charlie's music?"

Desmond's jaw tightened. Penny never stopped offering to buy him things. Her constant charity angered and shamed him.

"Because I want to do this myself, Pen!" he snapped, letting his temper flare. "I owe it to him. Charlie _died_ saving my life!"

Penny's face hardened, her hurt only showing in her eyes.

"Yes, he did Desmond," he returned, bluntly. "And I'm sure Charlie would just be thrilled if he knew that you're now choosing to spend your life locked indoors every day, drinking yourself stupid and murdering his songs. What a wonderful way of repaying his sacrifice!"

Desmond scowled and turned away, peering over the notebooks.

"Go to bed, Pen," he said, coldly. "Let me practise."

But Penny did not leave. Desmond listened as she began to cry. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to get up and comfort her.

"Des…when is our life together going to start? I…I spent three years searching for you. I have finally got you back and I…I thought we would be getting married…I thought we would be starting a family. We've lost so much time already, love. But even now you're….you're still on that bloody island, Des! You're still down in that hatch…you're still standing outside that door watching Charlie drown!" She took a slow shuddering breath. "You can't keep brooding over this forever. He wouldn't want you to. You're not to blame!"

Desmond's head shot back, his eyes flashing with rage. Penny flinched as he rose to his feet, his fists bunched by his sides.

"Not to blame?!" he spat. "I _saw_ his death coming! I told him that it _had_ to happen. I took him on that boat over the ocean. I made a belt of stones to _sink_ him…I might as well have been _his bloody executioner_!"

Desmond snatched up his coffee mug and hurled it against the wall. It smashed in a spray of dark liquid. Penny shook her head, ignoring the mess that he was making. She looked at him with a fierce concern.

"Charlie made a choice, Des…" she whispered, soothingly. "He chose to lay down his life to help the people that he loved. Including you."

Desmond squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Charlie never thought he had a choice…" he murmured. "I never gave him any hope at all…I made him believe that he had to…"

Penny approached Desmond, tentatively, reaching out her hands to cup his face. He jerked away from her, raising his palms and recoiling from her touches. He lifted his guitar and gathered up the songbooks.

"I'll go practise in the cellar so I don't disturb your sleep…"

Penny's sighed dejectedly and turned to the stairs.

Once in the cellar, Desmond didn't start playing again. He took a wine bottle from the rack, uncorked it with his teeth and drunk it down in heavy gulps. Desmond had been sorely offended by Pen saying that he was murdering Charlie's songs. The last thing he wanted was any more murdering of that young Englishman. So he kept drinking, hugging the guitar tightly to his chest.

Desmond stared vacantly around the room. He let his eyes fill with tears. He did not blink. Gazing through his tears, Desmond felt like the cellar was filling up with water. He crossed himself and held his breath. He held his breath until his chest ached and his heart was almost bursting. It hurt. He couldn't deny that it hurt. When the pressure become too much, Desmond spluttered and gasped. The tears tumbled from his eyes. He tasted their saltiness on his lips.

A fit of rage took him. Desmond let the bottle fall from his hands and smash on the floor. The wine spread before him like a puddle of blood. He seized the guitar by its neck and slammed into the wall. The body cracked and the strings broke as he kept beating the instrument against the bricks. It made a terrible sound. Desmond smacked it into the hinges of the shelves. The wood swung down to hit him in the face with a harsh slap. He staggered and collapsed.

Visions flashed before his eyes. The timer in the hatch running down to zero. The words 'System Failure' filling on the monitor. The failsafe key turning in its lock. Desmond realised it was happening again.

He was going back…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** This chapter was really fun to write. I love all this 'Back to the Future' stuff. I've got Charlie being funny and snarky here, which I hope will cheer up his mourners. Two more chapters to go!

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Desmond woke to find himself staring up at the clouds and the dazzling sun. He could feel wooden planks against his back together with the gentle rise and fall of the waves beneath them. He lifted his hand to his cheek. His skin was swollen up in a large welt where he had been hit with the oar.

He was in the outrigger. He was floating above the Looking Glass station. He couldn't believe it. He had travelled back to _this _day! The day that they had made contact with Penny. The day that Charlie had died.

Desmond attempted to sit upright. Then with a sudden jolt of memory, he stilled and flattened himself out. Sure enough the next moment, bullets came whizzing over his head. He reached into his shirt pocket, removed the note that Charlie had written for Claire and laid it in the boat, recalling how guilty he had felt when it had been ruined the first time. Then drawing several deep breaths into his lungs he threw himself over the side and swam down to the station.

Desmond's stomach was clenched with foreboding as he thought of what lay ahead. He couldn't bear to relive those terrible events. Then he quickly began to consider that maybe he didn't have to. Maybe there was a way of changing things. Maybe he had been sent back for that very purpose.

He surfaced in the moon pool, gasping for air.

"Des!" hissed a voice. "Des!"

He blinked his eyes and there was Charlie. He was tied to a chair, his face banged up and bloodied, but he was still very much alive.

"You have to hide, Des!" Charlie whispered, urgently.

"Aye, I know," he whispered back, swimming to the side. "Start singing!"

"What?" said Charlie, his brow creasing with confusion.

"Sing, brother!!" Desmond hissed, insistently.

Charlie looked over his shoulder at the communications room and quickly got the idea. After all, it had been his idea in the first place.

"Acting…acting like those stupid people wearing expensive clothes…"

Desmond scrambled towards the closet, stepped inside and pulled the door shut. He heard the two women entering the main chamber, cocking their weapons and asking Charlie who he was talking to.

"I'm not talking to anyone," he answered. "I was just singing. You all everybody! You all everybody! You all every–"

Desmond winced as Charlie was silenced by a hard punch to his face. The women remained in the main room, suspicious that their prisoner was up to some mischief. Desmond squinted through the metal grill. In the next twenty minutes or so the one eyed man would be arriving. He crouched down, found the spear gun and loaded it. He realised that he would have to make that shot again. He had to shoot at precisely the right moment. This time he had to finish him off. The first step towards saving Charlie would be putting an end his killer.

Desmond listened closely. Charlie was singing again, making perky nonsensical remarks and driving his captors up the wall. The blonde growled in frustration and came stomping towards the closet, threatening to harpoon Charlie for his insolence. She halted when the Russian emerged from the pool. He asked the two women where "the other one" was. When they offered him no conclusive answer, he advanced on Charlie with a knife. Charlie coolly suggested that he should be more concerned about the transmissions being jammed from the island. The Russian then disappeared into the communications room to answer a call from Ben. Desmond breathed, trying to settle his nerves. The moment was coming.

He had to allow the Russian to kill the two women. He couldn't possibly take on all three of them at once…but it was still horrifying to watch. The dark haired girl was thrown off her feet and landed with a splash in the moon pool, turning the seawater a shade of red. The blonde woman ran towards the closet, her eyes bulging with terror. The Russian shot her in the back and she tumbled onto the floor. Desmond watched with disgust as the man leered over her, smiling calmly as she writhed and pleaded. That was enough to strengthen his resolve.

"Hey!" he yelled, stepping out from the closest.

The Russian turned and was hit in the chest by the spear. He collapsed onto his back, dropping his gun which Desmond rushed to retrieve. Levelling this pistol at the fallen man, he planted his foot on his torso. He could feel the man's ribcage rising beneath his heel. He could hear the wheeze of his breath.

"I know you're not dead…" Desmond hissed.

The Russian cracked his eyelid and smiled as if to say '_You got me'_.

"You've a good aim," he commended. "Better than my own."

Desmond swallowed. "It wasn't good enough though."

Without hesitating a moment longer Desmond removed his foot and fired all six bullets into the man's chest. He then collected the spear gun from floor and reloaded it. He harpooned the Russian several more times. If he survived this time, he would still find himself pinned to the floor by steel spikes.

"Err…I _think _he's dead now, Des…" Charlie said, nervously.

Desmond wasn't taking any chances. He knew if there was so much as an ounce of life left in this man's body he would use it to kill them. Suddenly he remembered the grenade and crouched down to rummage his pockets. Desmond had been trained in bomb disposal during his time in the army. When he found the small explosive he quickly took it apart, sighing with relief.

"Bonnie! Can you hear me?" Charlie was yelling. "Desmond, stop messing around! We need to ask that girl for the code!"

Desmond turned to where the blonde woman lay sprawling in a puddle of her own blood. She was already unconscious. He propped her against a pole and pressed his fingers to her neck. There was no pulse.

"She's dead, brother…" he announced, grimly.

"What?!" Charlie spluttered. "She can't be! She has to give me the code. If I don't have the code I can't turn the jammer off!"

"It's _Good Vibrations_," Desmond informed him. "Beach Boys."

Charlie frowned. "You what? How do you…"

"The numbers on the keypad are notes," he explained further, wandering over to Charlie. "It was programmed by a musician."

Charlie's face filled with wonder. He seemed to be overwhelmed by the sense of his own destiny. Desmond came to stand in front of him. He placed a hand on his head, tipping it back as if inspecting his bruises. Really he just needed to touch Charlie. He wanted to make sure he was real and alive, that he wasn't just imagining all of this. Desmond beamed and shook his head.

"How are you doing, brother?" he asked, warmly.

Charlie blinked and raised his eyebrows.

"Me? I'm peachy! I can't tell you how much I love getting beaten up and interrogated while I'm waiting for impending death. Now if you've quite finished grinning at me dementedly, perhaps you could untie these ropes."

Desmond laughed and moved around to the back of the chair. He reached to unfasten the knots. Then suddenly his fingers froze. This wasn't over yet. Desmond had made the mistake last time of thinking the danger had passed. With the station not flooded and the hostiles dead, Desmond had thought it was safe for Charlie to enter the code. He thought that something must have changed. He had left him alone and gone to collect the scuba gear for them both...

He couldn't let his guard down this time. He had to keep control of this situation. It would probably be easier if Charlie didn't interfere.

"Why don't you sit tight for a moment," Desmond said, brightly, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'll deal with the switch."

Charlie looked shocked and appalled as Desmond wandered towards the coms room, leaving him bound to the chair.

"You've got to be bloody joking!" he fumed. "Untie me _now_, you mad Scotsman! How do you think _you're_ gonna turn the jammer off, hey? Last time I checked _I'm_ the only musician we've got around here!"

Desmond turned back, his smile lengthening

"You better check again, pal," he chirped. "Things have changed."

Desmond flexed his knuckles and began whistling 'Good Vibrations' as he stepped into the room. He knew this song. It was the song that he knew best. All those hours of practising hadn't been a waste of time. Even though he was tone deaf and lacking in rhythm, he still knew the notes. This was his destiny. To take Charlie's place and save his life. Now he had the chance to achieve it. He was so giddy with excitement that his fingers were fumbling over the keys.

"You keep buggering it up, Des!" Charlie was yelling to him from outside the room. "You keep missing out the F. You know, we would get these signals unjammed much quicker if you just let me handle it!"

"Shut it, Charlie, I'm trying to concentrate!"

Desmond stopped and smiled. He was bickering with Charlie again. He had missed the sound of that huffy little voice. Desmond stepped away from the equipment and stole a quick glance through the doorway. Yes, Charlie was still there, tied to the chair and staring at Desmond with a look of intense fury and indignation. He chuckled to himself and returned to the keypad.

After a few clumsy failed attempts, he patched in the code correctly. The yellow light ceased its blinking. Desmond lowered himself into the chair and waited. There was a bleeping sound and a red light flashing above the words – 'Incoming Transmission.' Desmond drew a nervous breath. He hadn't envied Charlie his tragic fate, but he had been bitterly jealous that he had been the one who received this message. He pressed the button, knowing who was calling...

"Hello?!" said Penny. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

Desmond lifted the microphone and waited for the static to clear.

"Aye…" he said, softly. "Aye, I can hear you, Pen…"

He watched as Penny's eyes widened with shock and disbelief. A trembling smile teased at her lips. She shook her head in amazement.

"Desmond," she gasped. "Oh Desmond! _Thank God_!"

He smiled back, tears of joy welling in his eyes.

"Where are you?!" she asked, urgently. "Where can I find you?!"

"I'm on an island. We don't know its location. But that doesn't matter. In a month from now you're team will find us and rescue us."

Penny shook her head and laughed in her relief. For a moment she and Desmond just stared at each other adoringly through their screens. Suddenly they were both startled by the sound of an angry voice yelling.

"Desmond, you impossible wanker! Who are you talking to?!"

Penny frowned, but Desmond kept grinning.

"That's just my friend Charlie," he explained. "I'd introduce you, but he's…he can't come to the monitor right now. All you need to know is he is a survivor of Oceanic Flight 815. There's a bunch of them here with me on the island. I'm afraid I crashed their plane. You need to rescue them too."

"Get me out of this chair, you bleeding nonce!!"

Penny shook her head, looking increasingly perplexed.

"Desmond…is you're friend okay?" she asked.

He smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, he's fine. He's gonna be just fine. Listen Pen, I need to get Charlie back to camp in one piece. Then we have to warn the others that Naomi isn't working for you and that it isn't your boat."

"What?!" Penny spluttered. "What boat? Who's Naomi?"

"_Exactly_. Don't worry, Pen. We'll see you soon enough. In another month or so your team is going to find us. I swear to you."

"Desmond, please don't go…" she pleaded.

Penny leaned forward in her chair and pressed her hand to the computer screen, her eyes straining with desperation. Desmond shivered. In another timeline he would have been looking at Charlie's hand pressing against the window about now. So close and yet unreachable. Once again, Desmond extended his fingers to stroke the hand on the other side of the glass, longing to clasp hold of it…

"I'll be with you soon," he promised. "And this time, I won't ever leave you. I love you, Penny. _That_ is why I'll survive."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Right, we are back to less action and more angst in this chapter. Desmond tells us how terribly depressing the future is following Charlie's death. It is all very grim in my mind. Does anyone else see it this way?

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By the time Desmond got around to untying him, Charlie had worn himself out with angry protests. Between his confusion and his exhaustion he was willing to let Desmond make the decisions for them both. When it came to leaving the Looking Glass, Desmond kept Charlie close and took every precaution that he could think of. He checked the vital signs of the three hostiles and found all were lifeless, even the Russian. He carefully inspected the diving gear for perforations and it seemed to be in good condition. Once they were suited up, Desmond tied a length of rope between his and Charlie's belts so they wouldn't be separated when they swam to the surface. To his surprise, they both made it up to the outrigger without a hitch. It didn't take much longer for them to paddle back to shore.

"So I can't help noticing that I'm not dead…" Charlie remarked, breaking the silence between them as they waded onto the beach.

"You almost were, brother..."

Desmond described to Charlie how his death would have come to pass if he had not intervened. He told Charlie how he had turned off the jamming equipment and made contact with Penny. How the Russian had slipped by them and detonated a grenade outside the porthole window. How Charlie had swiftly and selflessly locked the door of the coms room to save Desmond's life and preserve the rest of the station from the incoming flood. How he had used his final moments to give Desmond the message that the boat was not sent by Penny.

"You died a hero," Desmond assured him.

Charlie smiled modestly and looked down at his feet.

"Well, I guess you're the hero now…" He sighed, rolling his eyes. "The Bearded Wonder saves me again! Even Superman didn't have to rescue Lois Lane as many times as you've had to save my life…"

Desmond laughed and shook his head. Even though Charlie had been spared from drowning he seemed a little jealous and disgruntled that Desmond had stolen his moment of bravery and sacrifice.

"There are more important things for you to be than a hero, Charlie. There are people who need you as a friend, a companion…a parent…"

Charlie frowned. "You think so?"

"I know so, brother…"

Charlie didn't seem fully convinced. So as they made their way back to the beach camp Desmond decided to tell him…he decided to tell Charlie everything that had happened since the time of his death…

Claire simply couldn't cope with the news. The poor girl had already been through so much trauma. Without Charlie by her side she had fallen apart. The other members of the camp tried to support her, but she would just scowl and order them away, telling them to leave her alone. She said she was on her own and she knew it. Following her anger, Claire began suffering with fits of amnesia as she had done after her kidnapping ordeal. Some days it was so extreme that she would approach Desmond and breezily ask him if he had seen Charlie around. Desmond would have to sit the girl down and tell her all over again how Charlie had drowned in the underwater station. Claire would sob and wail, balling up her fists and punching Desmond in the chest. She would scream that Desmond was supposed to protect Charlie. That she had trusted him to do this. One time she even called him a murderer.

Things didn't improve for Claire after she was rescued. She and Aaron boarded that helicopter just as Desmond had foreseen, but when she returned to Sydney she was still traumatised and bereaved. Her aunt seemed to think she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She had organised for Aaron to be taken into care. Losing her son was the final straw. Last thing Desmond had heard Claire was being closely monitored in a hospital following a suicide attempt.

Claire wasn't the only one who had taken a turn for the worst after Charlie's death. Hurley had completely withdrawn from the camp, more convinced than ever of the power of his curse. He insisted that everyone stayed away from him, frightened he would bring further death to his friends. He took to muttering the numbers under his breath. When Hurley returned to civilisation his mother had him committed to Santa Rosa mental institution once again. Hurley told the psychiatrists there that Libby and Charlie were the best friends he had ever had and now Dave was his only friend in the world. His doctors were very concerned that Dave had returned and felt certain that Hurley would now need long-term care.

But it wasn't just Charlie's closest friends that were affected. Charlie's death and the final message he had scrawled on his palm had effectively ripped the camp apart over the following days. There were accusations being thrown and fingers being pointed – mostly at Desmond and Jack. The camp had already been growing distrustful of their old leader. Now they were feeling utterly betrayed. They believed Jack had knowingly sent a member of their camp on a suicide mission and after all his promises of rescue and victory he had signalled to further threats. Desmond was largely held responsible for bringing Naomi into the camp in the first place. He was shunned and made into an outcast. He had even lost the friendship of Hurley and Claire who both suspected him of allowing Charlie's death to take place.

Locke had disappeared in the jungle, taking the captive Ben with him. Sawyer was the next to break ranks. He just packed up and left the camp with Kate, Hurley, Danielle, Karl and Alex choosing to follow him. It wasn't much longer before the stress took its toll on Jack and he fled with Juliet. Sayid had attempted to bring the doctor back, but he had returned a day later to warn them all that he had seen a group of armed men and women advancing toward the beach. He didn't know if they were Others or a new enemy, but they meant to attack. Sayid had ordered Desmond to lead the remaining castaways to safety while he held off the threat. Desmond had done his best, but there were no safe places left and the people refused to follow his lead. He remembered begging Claire to let him protect her and her baby. "Like you protected Charlie!" she had spat at him before departing with Sun and Jin. They had all splintered and gone their separate ways into the wilds.

Desmond had spent his remaining weeks on the island living in a cave like a savage. He only emerged to shoot at boars and collect fruit. He barely slept for fear of what was out in that jungle. It was like being trapped in the hatch again. One man against the universe. Desmond thought he would be alone forever. Then the helicopters came. The rescue party sent by Penny. They had gotten a bearing on the island by tracking the frequency of Charlie's distress signal. They had spent several days searching the jungle for survivors. The people they found were crazed, starved and ravaged. They also found several dead bodies. Desmond learned that Sayid had been shot down on the beach, defending it from the new invaders. Juliet had been captured and executed by the Others in retribution for her betrayal.

It was hardly any better for those who survived. Sun had died one month after their rescue due to complications with her pregnancy. Jin was left devastated. Bernard had also lost his wife to cancer. Sawyer was convicted for the murder of Frank Duckett and sentenced to life imprisonment. Kate would have received a similar penalty for killing her father if she hadn't broken free and gone on the run. Jack was currently in a clinic for alcoholism. Locke had found himself confined to a wheelchair for a time. Until he chose to put a pistol in his mouth…

"You saw all of this?!" Charlie interrupted. "After I hit you with the paddle you saw a vision of everything that happened after my death?"

"No brother," said Desmond. "I didn't see it. I _lived_ it. I have only just been sent back. That is why I have been trying to change things. Your death was the start of all the trouble. The beginning of the end."

Charlie frowned and rubbed his temples, struggling to wrap his head around it all. "So will me surviving...make it better?"

Desmond shrugged. "It could hardly make it worst."

The two men fell silent. They could see the beach camp ahead of them. Jack's group had returned and the satellite phone was working. Desmond remembered the first time he had lived this moment. He remembered the looks of horror and the angry demands that had confronted him when he came back without Charlie. This time around, as he and Charlie returned together, they were met by smiles, cheering and applause. The whole camp came rushing over to welcome them.

Desmond soon found himself enveloped in a tight circle of people who were shaking his hand, patting his shoulder and commending him on a job well done. Hurley came forward, wrapped a large arm around Desmond's back and slapped him on the chest, laughing happily and shaking his head.

The castaways would have given the same measure of thanks to Charlie if he weren't tangled up in Claire's arms, his head buried against the crook of her neck. Claire was sobbing openly, her face flushing with relief as she ran her fingers through Charlie's hair. Desmond thought that Charlie was likely crying too into her shoulder. Nobody wanted to interrupt their reunion, but Jack and Sayid were both looking at Charlie with a new degree of respect and esteem.

Desmond did not wish to sour this moment, but he had to break the news about the boat and Naomi. He took a deep breath and made the situation known to the group. There seemed no sense in trying to keep it a secret. Desmond's stomach plummeted as he watched their faces fall and the joy fade from their eyes. He tried to offer them some hope by saying he had been in contact with Penny and the _real_ rescue was on the way. The people looked uncertain. They all turned to look at Jack. Their leader seemed shaken and at a loss for a moment. Then he bit his lip and nodded, a new determination lighting in his eyes.

"You heard what the man said!" Jack began, addressing all those gathered around him. "Rescue _is_ coming! However long this takes it is going to happen. We are going to make it happen!" He paused and swallowed. "I know you were all hoping for our rescue to come today, but we have not failed! Every single one of us has survived this day! That is a victory in itself. Today we have proven that if we work together, if we _hold_ together, if we have trust in each other, then…"

"Jack…" Rose interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Don't say it."

He laughed, relenting. "Okay Rose, but you know I'm thinking it."

"Yes honey, we know," she replied. "And even though we are a little sick of hearing it, I think you'll find we all still agree with you."

Desmond exhaled, shaking his head. He had changed things. This was so different from the last time. There was still a sense of hope in these people. Before there had only been anger, grief and despair. Suddenly Desmond found his head growing light and his knees trembling beneath him.

"Dude…are you okay?"

Hurley quickly held his arms out to catch Desmond as he collapsed in the sand. His vision was spinning and blurring. He could hear the alarm sounding again. He could hear the timer clicking down to zero. He could hear the hatch rumbling and the words 'System Failure!' echoing through his mind.

The last thing that Desmond was aware of was Charlie bending over him, tapping his cheek and worriedly calling his name.

"Des! _Des!_ Stay with us, brother…"

But Desmond couldn't stay. He could already feel himself slipping away. His task was done. He was being sent through time again...


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** This is just a wee little chapter to wrap things up. Watch out for the twist!

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When Desmond woke he was back in the cellar, down in the pitch dark. His head was throbbing and his lower back was bruised from landing hard on the stone floor. He staggered to his feet, his hands fumbling against the wall. The candle on the table had burnt itself out while he was unconscious. He lit another and squinted around the cellar. He could feel it. Something had changed.

Then he realised. Charlie's notebooks were missing. The acoustic guitar was still there, its wood and strings smashed to ruin…but Charlie's compositions were gone. Desmond felt a smile spreading over his face. He didn't have the notebooks anymore, because Charlie had the notebooks. Because Charlie was alive! He had been rescued along with the other 815 survivors!

Desmond took a calming breath. He had to make sure. He scrambled all the way up the stairs and barged into the bedroom, his hand slamming against the light switch. Penny sat upright in bed, startled and shielding her eyes. Desmond rifled the dresser draws in a flurry of impatience.

"Where is it, Pen?!" he asked, urgently.

"Des…for God sake…" she murmured, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "What are you looking for at this time of night?"

"The phone book, Penny!" he demanded. "Where is the bloody phone book?! I need to call Charlie. It's important!"

Penny lowered her hand from his face. She looked shocked and aghast at this suggestion. She shook her head in confusion.

"Darling…you can't possibly speak to Charlie..."

Desmond froze. His heart sank in his chest.

He slumped on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes. It hadn't worked. Perhaps some things had changed, but not Charlie's fate. He had no hope of changing that. Just because Charlie survived the Looking Glass mission, it doesn't mean the course correction had stopped. Death must have caught up with Charlie in some other horrific merciless way. Once again Desmond had failed to prevent it.

He began to hiss and whimper in frustration.

"Hey, hey…calm down, love…" Penny soothed.

She clambered out of bed and came to sit beside Desmond. She stroked his hair and tried her best to console him.

"Darling, please don't upset yourself…" she pleaded, still seeming confused. "Listen, I just don't think that it is appropriate for you to be ringing Charlie up when he is on his honeymoon…that's all…"

Desmond blinked and slowly raised his head. For a moment he wasn't sure that he had heard her right. Penny smiled.

"I'm sure that he's very grateful for the stag party you threw him, but I think he and Claire will be wanting a little time to themselves now. They'll be back in England on Friday. Can't it wait until then?"

Desmond shivered and tears came into his eyes. Only now they weren't tears of grief, but tears of relief and satisfaction.

"Des, what's wrong?" said Penny, cupping his face, her concern growing. "You're scaring me now. Please tell me that you haven't had one of those dreadful visions about Charlie. Sweetheart, I thought you said that your flashes had _stopped_ completely…several months ago…"

He exhaled, feeling the tension leave his body.

"No more flashes…" he murmured. "…just bad memories."

Penny nodded and tilted her head sympathetically. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned close to kiss the tears from his cheeks. Their lips came together. Desmond clasped Penny to his chest. He would never leave her again. Suddenly their embrace was interrupted by the sound of a baby wailing in the next room. Penny broke their kiss and rolled her eyes.

"Now you've gone and done it!" she scolded him, gently. "Honestly Des! We are supposed to be taking care of Aaron for them, not traumatising the poor mite. I'll see if I can get him settled down…"

Penny rose and stepped into the hallway. At the last moment she turned and clasped the door frame, looking back at Desmond.

"Have _you_ settled down now, my love?"

It was then that Desmond caught the glint on Penny's finger. There was a new ring on her hand. A ring with a sparkle of life. He smiled.

"Aye…I believe I have."

_The_ _End_


End file.
